Is that Love?
by oreocheesecakes
Summary: Our poor cinnamon roll is confused. Oneshot.
**A/N: Okay so it's my first time writing a Miraculous Ladybug fic and my first time to write in months so um yeah hope you like it!**

 **I do not own Miraculous Ladybug.**

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Adrien Agreste was … confused. Troubled.

He ran a hand through his tousled blonde hair, sighing as he walked into his room. He was someone who always valued loyalty and faithfulness, and this just felt wrong.

He firmly believed that when you fell in love with someone, it would block out your interest in everyone else. You'd be so head over heels that you wouldn't even _think_ of looking at anybody else that way. After all, how could you really say you loved someone when you can't even commit yourself?

But what with everything happening, he couldn't help but feel like the biggest hypocrite in the world.

He tossed his bag to the floor and collapsed in a heap on his bed. He stared up at the white of the ceiling with bothered eyes.

He felt Plagg fly out from under his shirt. "Sheesh, what's with all this drama?"

"Oh, shut up, Plagg," he said half-heartedly, carelessly tossing a piece of Camembert cheese onto the bed. The kwami flew over to it excitedly, and before long was completely consumed with the task of finishing the pungent-smelling food.

He watched him for a moment, wondering if Ladybug's kwami was as easily distracted.

He cringed. Ladybug. He just couldn't really take his thoughts away from her, could he?

She had captured his heart from the first day they had worked together. It was her confidence, her competence, her intelligence. Her acrobatic moves and flips, the way she swung through Paris with the aid of only a yo-yo. Her sheer goodness and dedication to helping people.

He didn't know who was behind that mask, yet he loved her all the same. He knew he'd do anything for her. Her mere presence sent adrenaline pumping through his veins. Many a night he had spent dreaming of her blue eyes, her pigtails whipping in the wind as she watched over Paris under the moonlight. She was like a firework—brightening up his life one moment but always gone soon—always so soon.

He lived for those short periods of time he got fighting by her side. He'd flirt with her, feeling bold behind his Chat Noir mask, and Ladybug would always turn him down. Still, her failure to return his feelings didn't dampen them in any way. Was it a hopeless cause? Plagg seemed to think so. He wasn't giving up, though. Just the possibility that one day, Ladybug would one day become his Lady—it was enough to keep him going.

Was that love?

 _Yeah, of course it is,_ Adrien thought. _I love Ladybug._

But was it really Adrien who loved her? Or was it Chat Noir?

Adrien pursed his lips. No, he and Chat Noir were the same person. He just happened to spend time with her as Chat Noir, that was all.

The same way Adrien spent his time with other people.

 _Certain people_ , he thought guiltily, one particular face popping into his mind.

Recently, he had started to feel something, and it was nothing like what he felt for Ladybug. It was something, however, that he feared, was just as strong. And this situation—this was a completely different one as well.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was his classmate, and one of the first people he had met at school. Albeit getting off on the wrong foot, it didn't take long for them to become friends. She had always been nice, but only within the past few weeks had he started to _really_ notice her—the sweetness in her smile and the cute nervousness in her giggling. The way her clumsiness and stuttering and blushing were adorable. The admirable passion and talent she had for fashion designing—heck, even his renowned father had noticed it. The warmth that always seemed to radiate from her, just because she cared about people.

She was no Ladybug, but she would never allow herself—nor others—to be stepped on. She was strong in her own way, although she often lacked confidence in her abilities—something Adrien found quite baffling, as she was absolutely amazing. While he wished she'd think higher of herself, he couldn't deny that he loved the rush he'd get whenever he'd reassure her and watch her forlorn, self-doubting expression turn into one of awestruck disbelief, renewed determination, and gratefulness. He was always happy to see her happy.

Marinette was very different from Ladybug. No, his heart didn't go crazy whenever he saw her, but there was this certain happiness he felt whenever he was around her. It was familiarity, a cozy feeling that always brought a smile to his face. Horror struck him at the mere thought of anything bad happening to her.

Was that love as well?

He growled, frustrated with himself. He loved Ladybug. But . . . what did he feel for Marinette . . .

What kind of person was he, anyway?

"You're thinking about your girls again, aren't you?" Plagg cut through his thoughts, looking up from his cheese.

"Oh, shut up, Plagg," he muttered.

"You're quite the player." He didn't have to look to know his kwami was probably smirking.

"It's not like I wanted this to happen," he mumbled to himself miserably.

There was a pause, and before he knew it, Plagg was hovering in front of him. "Oh, stop moping. You're not the first guy—nor Chat Noir—to have love problems. Some Chat Noirs have ended up with other people, and some Chat Noirs have ended up with Ladybugs," he said a-matter-of-factly.

"This is supposed to make me feel better how?" he said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm just saying."

"Ugh. So what do you think I do?" he asked the kwami.

"Let it blow over," Plagg said nonchalantly. "Though I think you're still more of a sap for Ladybug, anyway."

"But what about Marinette? She's special to me, too. And . . . and I think she could actually like me back?" He felt downright selfish for voicing that out, but it was true. Actually having a shot was a big factor. It also made him feel guilty, though, as he knew Marinette deserved so much more than to be a substitute or a second choice.

Plagg sneered. "You really are a player."

"I am _not_! But I like them both, okay? I like different things about them, and like them in different ways, but I think I care about them in the same way, okay? And that's my problem!" Adrien exclaimed.

Plagg regarded him without sympathy. "You're not married to either of them. Who cares if you like both of them? And besides, live your life first! I say eat all the cheese you can!"

Adrien rolled his eyes. "No thanks. But you _are_ right about one thing—" He was cut off by a quick, low knocking on his bedroom door.

"Come in," he said, just as Plagg flew back into the inside of his shirt.

The door opened, revealing Nathalie. "Adrien, the chef would like to inform you that your dinner is on the table,"

The boy nodded. "I'll be down in a sec," he said, and the woman nodded as she closed the door.

He got up from the bed, smoothing his clothes. On his way out, he snuck a glance at his table. Aside from the usual mess, two things stood out—the hat Marinette had once designed and he, Adrien, had modeled (feather and all—he had to keep the feather wrapped in plastic so as not to trigger his allergies), and a newspaper clipping of Ladybug doing what she does best—looking beautiful while saving Paris.

He shook his head. Amazing girls, the two of them.

He'd sort out his mixed-up feelings another day, but for now, he decided he'd just think about how lucky he was to be able to be a friend to both of them. He'd be there for them when they were down, cheer them on whenever they needed it, and support them in whatever way he could.

Was that love?

A smile tugged at his mouth. _Yes,_ he thought, as he closed the door behind him.

Nothing confusing about that.

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 **As always, constructive criticism is very much welcome! (Dang I feel like I've gotten so rusty)**


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